


The Mechanics of Malevolence

by ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong (Sagnessagiel)



Category: Tales of Zestiria, 終わりのセラフ | Owari no Seraph | Seraph of the End
Genre: I don't know what constitutes graphic violence but I'm pretty sure this isn't it, M/M, so proceed with caution if that bothers you, still I could be wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagnessagiel/pseuds/ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong
Summary: For a birthday request.Happy birthday Lex (I'm sorry it took so long)!Tainted!Sormik find themselves in the world of OnS. Shenanigans ensue.





	The Mechanics of Malevolence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ParzivalHallows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParzivalHallows/gifts).



> I had some ideas for this AU already, but the request was what motivated me to write it. It got too long, so I decided to finish part two at a later time. 
> 
> This has the makings of more chapters, but I have too many balls in the air at the moment. If you want to play in this sandbox with me, you're welcome to. I'd love to see what you do :)
> 
> (It has been a while since I read and watched OnS. Please excuse any inaccuracies and blame them on canon divergence. Thank you!)

Sorey has faced a lot of darkness in his life, but none of it has been quite so literal as this. A swallowing, all encompassing emptiness, and yet it does not scare him. It has been a long time since anything truly scared him, but he thinks that were it still as likely, this would fit the bill.

Mikleo stands behind him, one hand closed gently around his arm. It is a comforting gesture that has become commonplace for them. Sorey reaches back towards him and takes a hold of whatever he can reach. It turns out to be the silky material of Mikleo's undershirt.

Gently, Sorey pulls him closer. Mikleo comes to drape an arm over Sorey's shoulder, bringing his mouth close to his ear.

"This is a new one," he mutters. Sorey turns his head.

"Any theories?" he asks. Mikleo, now close enough, brushes his nose against Sorey's cheek.

"Not really. I sense no domains, no other life. It seems were just somewhere... in between." He gazes curiously into the darkness.

"No life? At all?" Sorey raises his eyebrows. At this point, Mikleo's powers have evolved to a level where he can sense bugs a kilometer away. They must be somewhere truly empty, then.

"None," Mikleo says. "If I-"

He suddenly perks up, blinking. Sorey looks at him.

"Hm?" he hums.

"Life," Mikleo mutters. "Human. At least... I think so."

Sorey does not have the time to ask what that means as the darkness suddenly gives way to warm, red light. They find themselves suddenly in a small room. It is richly carpeted, warmly painted, but it has little in the way of furniture. They stand in the middle of a circle of people. Most of them are in some sort of uniform, swords sheathed at their hips. Sorey's hand drifts slowly to the hilt of his own sword.

Despite how tense he is mentally, his shoulders remain relaxed. It is mostly for show, keeping the element of surprise. What he can salvage of it, at least.

The one in the middle, the only one out of uniform, tilts her head at them. She is short, looks very young, but Sorey has been around too long for that to fool him. There is a powerful force behind those red eyes. He can sense it, the hairs on his neck standing on end. Mikleo brushes his lips over the back of his neck, reassuring.

"I take it we're not going to get back without a fight, then," Sorey mutters. He looks around the room, feigned boredom in his eyes. Red eyes gaze intensely at him from all directions. How odd, he thinks.

He does not think there would be too much of a challenge. The soldiers surrounding them look thin and frail, and their uniform looks more ornamental than anything that would be used in a real fight. However, they do have the element of mystery. That, and Mikleo said there was something off about them.

Sorey can sense it, the strange energies in the room. Not quite malevolence, but something differently tinged. As though it was made with the same intention but a different material. They must be somewhere far from Glenwood at this point.

From her posture to her gaze, the girl in the middle exudes strength, and yet she looks as though Sorey could snap her in half using one hand. Something is wrong in this place, and he cannot put his finger on what it is.

She takes a step forward as he thinks.

As organised and prepared as they appear, the soldiers around them seem nervous. Their hands twitch at the hilts of their blades. Their eyes flit between Sorey, Mikleo, and the girl in the middle.

"Steady, men," she tells them. "No picking a fight now."

The way she smirks at one soldier makes him back up a step and straighten his back. He nods once, a businesslike dip of the chin.

Mikleo's fingers tighten on his arm, little pinpricks of sharpness that tell Sorey he is prepared for a fight. Sorey strokes over Mikleo's hip, half reassuring, half understanding of his wariness.

"Hey, little girl," he says calmly. Her eyes flash dangerously at the epithet. Sorey does not care.

"Explain yourself," he says. He is not in the mood for games. "Who are you, and where are we?"

Despite the insult to her dignity, she smiles at him in a way that makes Mikleo's nails grow just a little bit sharper against his arm.

"You're in another world," she says. "I'm your summoner, and if you want to get back, I'll need your help."

Sorey sizes her up. He glances around the room.

"And if we say no?" he asks, challenges.

She looks him in the eyes, eerie red meeting glowing green. She tilts her head.

"You won't," she says, as though that is conclusion enough for them. Sorey scoffs.

"And what makes you so sure of that?"

There is authority in her words, but Sorey has not listened to authority in a long time. It was a long time ago that someone was last able to overpower him. The same is true for Mikleo.

"Sorey and Mikleo," the girl says, making Mikleo twitch behind him. "The Lord of Calamity and his dragon. I've read up on the two of you."

"Can't imagine there was much to read," Sorey says. She huffs.

"True," she says, "but I've been around a while. I've been keeping an eye on your legend since it was a fledgling tale. Since the time you went by titles very different than that."

"Then you know," Sorey says calmly, "that we are no longer in the business of helping others."

"Yes, of course." Her tone is a clear mockery. "You're out for yourselves now." She raises an eyebrow, eyes drifting over the two of them, leaned against each other and impassively regarding her merry company. "No one else but you matters, right Sorey?"

Sorey's eyes narrow. If she knows them, she knows that is not true. The best way to provoke him is to go after the man at his side, but that does not seem to be her tactic. He waits, and when she realises that he will not take her bait, she sighs in such a way that it blows a strand of her hair upwards off her forehead. It is a surprisingly childish gesture, and it goes perfectly with her seemingly innocent appearance.

"Fine. Be that way. I'll be frank with you."

She walks up to the two of them, a few short steps. It sets into motion the nervous flinching of both her soldiers and the two men before her. Mikleo straightens, his claws gaining an inch or so. Sorey's hand closes into a fist around the hilt of the sword.

She halts the soldiers' motions by holding up her hand. Standing at a height that is in no way impressive, she has to tilt her head back to look Sorey in the eyes. Her tone is now chillingly serious.

"There are few evils in this world that know what it is to care for someone else." Her gaze moves to Mikleo, meeting his with conviction.

"You won't say no," she says. "Not once you hear me out."

"Oh?" Mikleo glares, gives a brief flash of teeth. "We're not soldiers, and we're not yours."

For a moment it almost looks like she is going to get angry, but then she shakes her head. Her expression holds no malice as she says,

"No, you're not. You're something else altogether. You're a nightmare that many fear and a legend that everyone has forgotten, but not here. Here, you're unknown, and that will be useful for my plan. To me, you'll be insurance."

"Insurance." Mikleo frowns. "For what?"

"There's going to be a battle, very soon." She refuses to be stared down, meeting Mikleo with equal conviction. Her next words are grudging. "I can't guarantee my own safety in it, and that is not acceptable. There is someone I care about, and they need to be kept safe."

"Really?" Sorey asks. She does not seem like the caring type so far. "And who is that?"

* * *

Mika walks slowly down the steps to the basement. It is scarcely lit - the light bulb will need to be changed soon - but neither Mika's nor Yuu's eyes really require as much light as a human's does anymore. Mika can see the way down perfectly, even with the abrupt change from the outside sunlight.

The sound of thrashing and clanging metal can be heard all the way outside. The screaming is worse than that. He trudges all the way down the stairs, his head filled with the sound and second guesses. He stops outside the door, waiting.

The sound dies down as soon as he gets there. Ashuramaru senses his presence. In a moment, Yuu's voice echoes in the room, untouched by the demon echo.

"Mika..." He sounds exhausted. There is a brief shifting of fabric, the clanking of heavy chains. "I need your help Mika. Help me."

It amounts to begging, something he would have thought demons were above. He counts the seconds. Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine.

He turns over the vial in his hand. A solitary bubble of air travels from the cork to the bottom of the vial. He keeps his eyes on it as he clasps the door handle with his other hand.

He does not at first meet Yuu's eyes as he enters the room. Yuu draws in a sharp breath, as though Mika's entrance surprises him. Mika counts. Seventy-five, seventy-six.

"Mika," Yuu says, his tone is low and sweet, clearly not him. "Mika, Mika. Love. You wanna help a guy out?"

No answer. There is no reason to answer him. Eighty-two, eighty-three.

"You're really going to be that way? And here I thought I meant something to you. In fact, I thought I was the only one that meant something to you."

Mika turns over the vial. He sits down on the floor and pops the cork open with his thumb. Yuu continues to cajole, the sound fuzzy in his ears. Mika has learned to tune him out fairly well, though it took some practice.

A hundred and twelve. A hundred and thirteen. Mika chugs from the vial as though he were a child drinking disgusting medicine. It makes him recoil in the same way as well. It does not taste particularly bad per se, but the sentiment of it has yet to grow on him, except perhaps the way a bad rash does.

He does notice the way Yuu's eyes remain fixed on his throat, then at his mouth as he lowers the vial.

"I can do you one better, you know." He smirks, which is not in itself an unusual expression on Yuu, but in the flirty sense it seems entirely new. Mika, however, is indifferent to it.

"Come on, love." It seems Ashuramaru likes calling him that. "Come here and free me. I'll let you have as much as you want."

It is unclear from his tone whether he means Yuu's blood or something else entirely. Mika takes another swig from the vial. It is not large, and as such it only takes another sip or two to empty it. When he wipes his mouth, he sees Yuu's horns fade in his periphery. One hundred and twenty seconds.

Yuu coughs and heaves as though he is going to vomit. His eyes are wild and frightened for only a split second before he spots Mika and quickly composes himself. Mika waits until his breathing evens out.

There is a fleeting moment, just a beat, in which they just sit and stare at each other. In which Yuu almost looks ashamed. In that moment, Mika does not know what his expression looks like. All he can see is Yuu, his face, his body. Really alive and there with him,and tainted forever by the demon possessing him.

The moment flies by, and Yuu smiles sheepishly.

"Hey, Mika." There is only a trace of the exhaustion he feels in his voice. It does not fool Mika for a second, but Mika quite frankly has no idea what to do to help it. He has barely spoken to a human in four years, much less one that actually means something to him. His regular human manners were always rusty, but now they feel like an alien cog trying to turn in an incompatible machine.

"We should get back out to the others," he says simply. Yuu nods. His eyes drift to the chains.

"Help me out?" he asks.

It is amazing how all the begging and bribing and cajoling in the world can do nothing to Mika when in the face of a simple question from the real Yuu he very nearly scrambles to stand up and get to him. He is a vampire, and so far more graceful than that, but for a fleeting moment it is a near thing.

"You were out for two minutes more now," he chides as he picks at the chains. "It's getting longer each time."

"It is getting more difficult to claw my way back," Yuu concedes, his expression thoughtful. He looks less worried and more like it presents a fascinating puzzlefor him to solve. It sparks the anger in Mika that is always there resting just beneath his skin.

"I still can't belive you got yourself into this mess," he says irritably.

Yuu is quick to snap back. "I had a plan, and I used what power I could find."

"You got yourself possessed." Mika enunciates each word with a cold fury that he has rarely felt in four years living in Sanguinem with the worst the world has to offer.

"We're not having this fight," Yuu says with a finality he did not possess four years ago. It is the proper, authoritative voice of a soldier. It does nothing to impress Mika.

"You're an idiot, you know that? You had one job! Get out and get safe! Do you ever think!?"

They walk up the stairs together, and Mika continues to yell. Yuu looks all but worried, taking his anger with a nonchalance that Mika recognises. It almost makes the cross from infuriating to an absurd sort of comforting in its familiarity.

As they emerge from the house, Shinoa comes up to them.

"Looks like you're alright, Yuu," she says. Yuu stretches his arms above his head, sighing with relief as though what he has been through is nothing more than a rough workout.

"I'm good," he says, smiling in a way that Mika knows is fake. "How long was I out?"

"Three and a half hours this time," Shinoa supplies. "It's getting longer, but I guess Mika told you that."

She glances at Mika, and the look that passes between them is patient on her part and chilly on Mika's. She is one of two out of Yuu's "friends" that have tried to make him some sort of acquaintance, if not a real part of the group. Mika has been less than receptive to their advances, but he accepts their blood because he needs it and Yuu will not be able to sustain him on his own. Attempting it while he is still weaning from Krul's blood is too dangerous.

"I told him he was an idiot," Mika says, crossing his arms. Yuu sighs beside him, as though the argument is trivial. It is infuriating.

Shinoa glances between the two of them, gauging the mood. Finding it casual enough, she smirks.

"Can't help but agree with our vampire friend there," she says, shifting on her feet. Her expression is delighted in a way that only comes from teasing people who you feel deserve it.

Yuu groans. "Not you too."

"You have made some less-than-tactical decisions." She grins. Something stirs in Mika which he in the last few months has learned to identify as jealousy. The easy talk between Yuu and his humans is something Mika misses being able to do.

He remains silent as the two of them lapse into easy conversation. When Shinoa motions to the other humans, standing over by the cliffs overlooking the shore, he and Yuu follow her without so much as a look at each other.

He does not like being in their presence, but he will be damned if he is left out of the planning of their next move.

* * *

Yoichi keeps watch while they talk. Mika listens to them bicker back and forth, annoyed at every tangent, when one of them suddenly addresses him.

"Hey, vampire," Kimizuki says, as casually as asking a passerby for the time. "You got any useful info on what we're up against?"

Mika narrows his eyes only slightly. "Nothing, if we do the smart thing and get out while we can. As I see it, you can go and fight whatever vampires you want. Tell them hello from me when they skewer you like a-"

"Hey," Kimizuki snaps. "Either you get yout shit together and help or we drag you along as dead weight. Your choice."

"I'm not carrying him," Mitsuba says casually. Mika feels his anger flare up.

"Vermin don't have a chance against nobles," he says coolly. "Playfighting with your sticks and wooden swords." His hand moves subtly to the thorny hilt of his own sword at his hip. "Pathetic-"

"Mika," Yuu says, his voice calm. It holds no authority or attempt to cajole. It is just a request, and one that makes him lose his stride entirely. Mika clenches his jaw, his fangs digging into his lower lip.

"Leave it," he says to Yuu, even as Kimizuki smirks at him. "You're keeping him alive already. You're going to hold his hand in conversation too?"

He is referring to the fact that Yuu has essentially vouched for the small group. Irritating as he finds them, Mika has promised him to work with them for the moment. Kimizuki knows the implication of his tone, and he looks no happier for it.

"You little-" he says and advances on Mika for a moment. He stops abruptly, Mika already baring his teeth, when they hear Yoichi shouting from the hill above.

"Guys," he says loudly and uncertainly. "We have a problem."

* * *

They had expected to be followed in some capacity. At this point, even Mika was hoping they would have shaken the worst of the vampires off. They were very, very wrong.

They watch in silent horror for a few precious moment as the red spot in the distance grows closer and closer. Yoichi has confirmed already, and Mika can see even from this distance. Ferid. Ferid and Crowley, both heading in their direction, as casual as a couple of friends on the way to a vacation.

Whatever warmth Mika has in his veins is leeched by a chilling terror. They have no chance against Ferid, let alone Ferid and Crowley together. If they do not think of some way to escape, they will die right here on this hill.

"What do we do?" Yuu asks in a low tone. Even though his head is not turned towards him, Mika knows the question is directed at him. Around them, the other soldiers in the group turn their gazes on him, expecting an answer.

Mika weighs several options in his head, dismissing and cursing them as they pass. He closes his eyes for a brief moment.

"Run," he says. "Get as far as you can. I'll catch up."

Almost as if they were able to hear it, Ferid and Crowley suddenly change their approach. With a graceful arch, Ferid stands up in his seat. He braces himself for just a moment on the back of the seat, and then he is hurtling towards the hill at an alarming speed. Crowley follows suit.

It will only take a moment. They have not got a chance in hell.

Mika grabs Yuu by the jacket and shoves him forcibly back.

"Go," he says forcefully. Yuu gives him an affronted glare.

"No way," he insists. Mika inwardly curses him.

There is no time. He cannot convince him in a moment. Mika changes his plans and grabs hold of him again. He takes the lead, running ahead. With his cooperation, the soldiers follow suit. They know the odds. With a small scrambled squad and a possessed Yuu, the battle would be both difficult and unpredictable. The best way to lose your life to a vampire is to let them see you hesitate, just for a moment.

They do not make it far. In a moment, Crowley is upon them.

Mika has the foresight to turn around at the last moment and draw his sword, quick as a flash. He does not have time to let it drink his blood, instead raising it to block the incoming blow of Crowley's blade. The impact is rattling, like blocking a boulder with a stick. His wrists ache and his arms strain with the weight of it.

Yuu rolls out from under him, and Mika sidesteps to let Crowley's weight strike at the ground. Crowley wastes no time, rising to his feet and raising his sword again, quicker than a human ever could.

Mika deflects this blow to the side, but it throws him wildly off balance. Unable to do much else, he tucks into a roll and puts some distance between him and Crowley.

There is not enough room, not enough freedom for a real fight. He has not had to protect anyone for a long time. Not from a noble. There are too many vital pieces on the board, people that Yuu would curse him for losing. He cannot win this fight.

Crowley grins, a wild emotion in his eyes. As far gone as he is, red eyes and all, Mika will always consider himself above that kind of sickening delight. Though elegant on such a sharp face, it is unbecoming of anything with emotions.

Crowley steps closer, taunting him with the slow motion of it. Mika whispers under his breath, and thorns sprout from the hand-guard of his sword. They dig into his hand, drawing hungrily on his blood. He clenches his fist, savouring the sting.

They look each other in the eyes for a moment. Crowley sees in him a wounded deer that just needs a clean cut through the throat, and Mika sees that in his calculating gaze. Then, just for a split second, Crowley's eyes flit behind him. Mika is surprised when he does it again.

Something is wrong. What he saw was the noble equivalent of a shocked double take. Mika's eyes widen fractionally. He listens.

Behind him, the squad has stopped, their harsh breaths far too close to him. Shinoa whispers something under her breath, and it sounds confused.

Crowley shakes his head, just a tiny twitch, but it tells Mika that the novelty of the distraction has faded. He strikes preemptively, hoping to land a hit that will stagger Crowley enough to attack for real.

Crowley shrugs him off like a leaf in the wind. Mika staggers backwards, raising his sword to block a slash that Crowley deems unworthy of the use of his sword. Instead he strikes with outstretched claws, ready to tear through to the bone.

He gets only halfway to Mika before something collides with his hand and draws him forcibly backwards, as though he has been caught by a strong hand and dragged like an unruly child. Mika's surprise is reflected in Crowley's red eyes as he takes a single step back, recovering instantly. He raises his hand, confused.

A solid and jagged block of ice holds his hand in a sprawled position. It encases his whole hand and sticks out in thin points like the tail of a comet, shiny and sharp. A split second of confusion passes, and Mika turns on instinct to look behind him.

Yuu and the squad stand some distance behind him, confused and unsure. Shinoa and Kimizuki have their weapons out, and Yuu has his sword ready at his hip, but none of them move. Yoichi stands frozen with his bow lowered, uncertain of what to do.

Then Mika sees him. A lone figure blocking the path in front of them. He is tall, with long hair and an angular face, dressed in the standard vampire black and white. However, there seems to be a different design to his clothing, nothing like the uniforms of Mika or even the nobles. It looks like a different style altogether, and aged at that.

His gaze, hard as steel, rest on Mika and Crowley. He appears to be rubbing his left hand below the wrist with the thumb and forefinger of his right. His hands are bare, lacking the gloves Mika and all the other soldiers wear.

Mika curses his luck and wracks his memory all at once. He does not recognise the new addition, and that means unpredictability. This is bad, and it is going to end worse.

"Wha..." Shinoa trails off, sounding as worried as Mika feels.

"Are we..." Kimizuki looks between the vampires behind them and the one before them. "Is this a new one? What kind of fight are we in right now?"

"Mika?" Yuu asks, loud enough for everyone to hear. He looks ready to kill, which would be wonderful if they had a chance in hell. As it looks, they are surrounded by three vampires who are all some kind of noble.

But there is something different about the man that stands alone. He tilts his chin up and regards them with the same jagged indifference that all vampires have, but he looks different than them. His uniform is different, but there is also something about his posture, the look in his eyes. Mika realises with a start that they are not red. They are a gentle shade of violet, though it does nothing to offset his sharp stare.

"He's incomplete," Mika says, almost to himself. "His eyes..."

"Ho, there!" Crowley says behind him, his voice jolly and sweet. It is completely out of place, wholly in line with eccentric nobility. "Care to join us?"

The newcomer lifts his chin just slightly in what could either be a greeting or a gesture of disgust. He lets his hands drop to his sides and turns his cold eyes on Mika. Just for a split second, in which he speaks one clear, crisp word.

"Move."

If he had the time, Mika would have had a lot of thoughts about that solitary command. He would have felt confusion, some anger, but mostly indignance at being pushed like a disobedient pet into doing something. As it is, that is all the warning any of them get before the real fight begins.

The newcomer braces himself on the ground, nimble as a spring in a machine. He narrows his eyes, and with a sound like thunder, he shoots towards Mika like a bullet out of a gun.

Mika is a vampire. One trained by the queen of Japan. His reflexes are on par with the best. As such, it is a matter of making a quick decision for him.

He steps to the side. One perfect step, as graceful as a dancer. A wall of air whips at his face, and there is a sound behind him like that of a boulder striking a cliff.

He looks up to see Crowley and the newcomer locked in a firm grip. Crowley stops just a pace or two back. His pristine boots are now covered in dirt and dust.

Beneath his feet a deep trail is carved into the hard earth, marking exactly how firmly he braced himself on the ground.

The stranger pushes forcibly, and around his clenched hands is a thin layer of frost. It spreads and coats Crowley's hands and clothing in it, growing thicker by the second.

It occurs to Mika very quickly what is happening. He decides he does not need an explanation. Now that he has the chance, he turns away and runs.

The squad follows his lead. They are at least good for that much.

Leading them by example, Mika gets them a small distance from the fight. That is when Ferid slams down in front of them like a stone. Mika halts, stopping Yuu physically in his tracks with an outstretched arm. They all stumble a bit, but they can hardly be blamed for it.

Ferid holds out open arms, his smirk firmly in place. He opens his mouth.

"Leave," a voice says behind him.

Mika blinks. Yuu blinks behind him. Ferid blinks.

A man stands behind Ferid. A human man. At least it looks to be so.

He looks ordinary, if dressed oddly in black and red, but there is something about his voice that chills the stolen blood in Mika's veins. He speaks calmly, quietly, and yet his voice carries from twelve feet away. It is as though the air itself has stilled around them to give him the space to speak. His green eyes are focused on them, but blank in a way that Mika has only seen on a very select group of vampires he knows. It is the indifference that grows and cultivates only after thousands of years of living.

Ferid tilts his head like a curious cat. He grins, showing off his fangs.

"Come now." He says. "Normally, I'd share, but you have to understand that this is a special occasion. Mister...?"

The man says nothing. He simply nods to the battle behind them.

Ferid turns his head for a fraction of a second. Mika risks doing the same.

Some distance away, the fight has turned into a jarring blur of movements. Mika's eyes flit back and forth as though following a tennis match, trying to keep up with it.

Crowley has abandoned his sword entirely in favour of grappling with the stranger. They have let go of each other for the moment. The stranger crouches on the ground, coiled like a snake, while Crowley lunges for a direct attack.

Crowley's coat is torn at the shoulder, red blood starting to well into the fine material. The stranger has two cuts near his hip and ribs. They bleed, but they do not seem to bother him, the same way Crowley ignores his own scratch.

Mika has time to see the stranger conjure up a block of ice around his own hand and strike at Crowley's jaw before he quickly turns back to keep Ferid in his sights. The sound is like a stone shattering against diamond.

"Go," the man before them says. "I won't ask again."

"Not a question my friend," Ferid says with a lascivious grin. "and I don't take well to commands."

They stare each other down. In the distance, blows like thunder and lightning strikes echo off the hill.

Yuu draws his sword. The others in the squad hold up their weapons, prepared for a fight. Mika swallows hard.

There is a shout behind them. Mika recognises the voice as the stranger, even as he has only heard it once. At once, everyone looks towards the battle.

The stranger has Crowley's hands locked tightly in his fists. With a great show of effort, he forces Crowley backwards and down to one knee. Crowley grins, and Mika can see the gears turning in his head.

There will be a counter strike, and one like that of a sprung mouse trap. Mika has fallen for that maneuver before. He knows how it will end.

The stranger grins, his bright teeth visible. He has fangs as well.

All at once, he squeezes hard enough to crush bones, and a thick layer of ice begins to sprout around Crowley's lowered leg. Crowley gives the barest twitch of surprise, but that is all that is needed. The ice thickens quickly. It encases him up to the waist, clear and shiny and constricting.

Crowley bares his teeth. He twists his hips and legs, and the ice shatters like brittle glass. Gritting his teeth, the stranger pushes, and the ice grows again.

They struggle back and forth like that for a short bout, conjuring and shattering in turn, until the ice manages to crawl all the way up to Crowley's throat.

The stranger grins, but the expression is hollow. He gives one final, forceful push with his powers, and the ice encases Crowley's shocked expression in clear ice. As it passes his hands, the stranger lets go, brushing it fondly like a pet as it grows a good few inches thicker than it needs to. He finally backs off, inspecting is handiwork.

Crowley is frozen stiff, encased and visible for all the world to see. His hands reach out uselessly into the empty ice. Satisfied, the stranger turns his blazing eyes on Ferid.

The humans and Mika stand frozen on the sideline. Even Ferid seems surprised, blinking dumbly at the pair. There is but a split second in which everyone takes in what just happened.

The man in red and black huffs. "Go, or he kills you. Your choice."

Ferid considers this for a second or two. Then he smirks. Grandiose as a magician on a stage, he holds out his hands to them all.

"A fine show. I thank you for it. Until we meet again."

In a split second, he has left the man's side and reappeared where Crowley sits paralyzed on the ground. He nods at the strange vampire, bowing his head as though to tip an imaginary hat. Then he twists all five fingers of one hand into the base of the ice block and lifts it above his head as easily as though it were a balloon. With a flourish of the other hand, he leaps off in the direction of the red car and disappears over the arch of the hill.

Mika can hear the frantic heartbeat of every human in the group behind him.

The stranger advances on the group. At a flick of his head, three sharp spikes of ice form in thin air around him. They circle him like cobra heads waiting on a cue to strike.

"So," he says in a very calm tone. "Are you going to come willingly?"

Anger and fear mingle in Mika's chest in equal parts. He feels it reflected in Yuu, who twitches beside him in a bid to move, to do something. It finally twists him free of Mika's grip (he was expecting it earlier to be honest) and Yuu strides past him decisively.

"Not fucking likely," he snaps, raising his sword.

The stranger gives a delicate snort. The spikes orbit him like oddly shaped planets. He raises a casual hand.

In it, a long staff springs into existence from nothing but thin air. It almost looks like the method the human soldiers use for their cursed weapons. Mika would have guessed as much had it not been for the fact that this weapon seems to materialise out of a blue light, as opposed to the black oily smoke that follows the humans like a miasma. He swings it with a practiced grip, bringing the length of it to heel at his hip. He raises the other hand in a taunting gesture.

The man in black and red speaks then.

"Easy, beloved. We need him unharmed. That was the point of all this."

The stranger rolls his delicate eyes, smirking at the other.

"I wasn't going to kill anyone. You worry too much."

"Perhaps I do," the other man concedes, holding out his hands and shrugging. "but I know how you love it when you can."

A delicate tilt of the head. The stranger licks his lower lip. A slow, deliberate motion.

"Talk, then," he says. "Before I lose my patience."

"Thank you."

He walks up to the group with purpose. All at once, they point their weapons at him.

For some reason, this appears to come as a surprise to the strangers. The one in black and red stops walking. He smiles, a small and awkward expression.

"Don't worry," he says, and his tone is that of a man telling a very sad joke that only he understands. "You're safe. We're not going to hurt you."

Yuu snorts. It is a derisive sound.

"Come here and we'll see who hurts who."

"I understand your hesitation," he says, holding up his hands. It draws up his cloak around him, and a sheathed sword comes into view. "Mikleo is just eager. He won't bite."

The vampire behind them sighs.

"Are you ever going to stop that?" he asks. The other man shrugs, grinning.

"No."

"You should." Irritated, Mikaela interrupts them. "That has never been funny."

Blank green eyes fix on him. Just for a second, he feels the same unsettling powerlessness that looking into Krul's eyes gives him. It is the knowledge in the back of your mind that the creature before you is thousands of years older than you and that they are weighing your worth against all the other blips of life that have bypassed them before. The man tilts his head, considering.

"You. You're Krul's boy, right?"

Mika flinches. A flash of white hot anger passes over him, but he remains standing still. The man walks a little closer.

"Easy," he says, looking around at all of them. In a show of good faith that would have made Mika laugh in another situation, he brings a hand into his cloak and draws his sword from the sheath, dropping it like a stick on the ground. It clatters on the gravel, reflecting the sun briefly into his eyes.

It looks nothing like the weapons Mika has seen before. It is short and red, decorated in gold lining that slithers all around it like vines climbing a wall. The edge is not jagged, but not straight either. It goes in smooth waves, a rising and falling line that goes all the way down the blade. There are no vines or thorns to call on by the hilt.

Besides its uncommon appearance, it looks like an ordinary sword. It only adds to the all around confusion.

"Mikaela, right?" He says it quietly, the way one speaks to calm a frightened animal. "I'm Sorey, and that's Mikleo, my mate. Tell me, what are you doing out in the countryside with a flock of hellions?"

Mika has no time to respond, or even get confused, because Mikleo has suddenly appeared close to the squad. Close enough for them to take it as a threat.

Mitsuba acts first. Her hammer makes a graceful arc in the air, striking at the staff as Mikleo uses it to block. His hands freeze over as he grips it. In a terrifying show of strength, he shoves it back and staggers her with no more than a careful step backwards to brace himself. Kimizuki comes next, while Yoichi backs up to get a good shot.

Mika sees Yuu rush to attack. Everything happens all at once.

Mika goes to intervene, unsure of what to do. Yuu and Shinoa slash at Mikleo together, and Mikleo finally backs up a few steps. Then he catches Yuu's sword and pulls him roughly to himself.

Mika stops. Everyone stops. Sorey sighs.

Mikleo holds Yuu close, his fingers claw-like around his jaw. Yuu flinches hard when a thin sheet of frost starts creeping up over his cheeks.

"Now," Mikleo says, visibly irritated. "It's been a while since I killed a hellion, but this one-"

He blinks, turns Yuu's head slightly to look at him. He frowns.

"Sorey," he says. "Something's wrong."

"Oh?" Sorey raises an eyebrow. He seems bored, shifting his weight where he stands.

"This one. He's corrupted all the way through." Mikleo leans in and, surprisingly, sniffs at Yuu's temple. "Lord of Calamity levels of malevolence."

Sorey's casual posture stiffens. His eyes widen a little.

"That's impossible," he says. "That would make everyone in the area hellions within the hour."

"And yet," Mikleo says, his eyes meeting Mika's briefly.

There is a slight gust of air. Then Mika flinches as Sorey's hand closes around his wrist and shoves his arm up against his back. A sharp twist, and Mika's sword clatters to the ground.

Sorey lets go and advances on him with slow steps. Mika takes a step back, less graceful than he would like to be. His shoulder twinges painfully. A number of strategies fly through his head, but none of them are safe to attempt.

Sorey considers him carefully, searching with his blank eyes. It feels like being pinned in a microscope. Fear twists in his stomach.

"Tell me, Mika," Sorey says, his voice final, commanding. "How in this cursed place have you managed to remain human?"


End file.
